


Cherry Flavoured

by maraudersreign



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Depression, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Library Sex, Mental Health Issues, Pining Draco Malfoy, Pining Hermione Granger, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Shameless Smut, Smut, Soft Draco Malfoy, library kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:22:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29891442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersreign/pseuds/maraudersreign
Summary: Life had thrown her many obstacles and now she’s sitting in a Muggle cafe — having lunch with Draco Malfoy and he just testified for the only forgiveness that he ever sought out. And she forgave him. Somewhere deep inside her chest — deep inside the sullen bones of her body, she knew she forgave him years ago.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17





	Cherry Flavoured

**_June 15th 2001_ **

Hermione’s feet wandered across the cracked pavement of Muggle London; and there they followed her to the only place she’d been going to for the past few weeks — a library. One that smelled of pine, wood and aged parchment. The only place where she’d found solace after the war. In all her recent visits, she’d stop and take the time to speak to the owner; a woman named Jane. Jane Eleanor. She was a small and frail woman in her late fifties. Her chest-nut hair nicely done in a small bun on the top of her head. She wore glasses and would always ask Hermione if she’d be opposed to a cup of tea with her. Especially on Sundays. 

Hermione had taken note of the fact the woman must've been lonely. She’d tell Hermione about her family and how she was widowed when she was only 22 — it broke Hermione’s heart just a little more every time the woman had told her. Over and over again. A small piece of her heart was given to the woman. 

She reminded her of her mother. 

Sweet. Warm. And everything that she missed about being a daughter to a mother. A mother that still had no clue she had a daughter somewhere in Britain. 

Hermione had spent the better half of three years waving through healers. 

That’s when she decided that moving somewhere small in Muggle London was her best option. A small flat in the country. Books that filled her psyche with the only comfort she allowed herself to have. 

Hermione walked through the doors of the library. 

Her feet dancing towards the back, pulling her to a section she hadn’t discovered nor had the time to go looking through — with all the talk she did with Miss Eleanor. 

Her fingers gilded across the hard book-spines, collecting small specks of dust along her dulled fingertips. She closed her eyes and inhaled. A small smile pulling the edges of her rose-bud lips. _Yes_. This was indeed her happy place. Solace. Letting the feel of the books create a place in her mind feel less alleviated. 

The section her feet stopped at was outrightly named — _Tragical Romance._

The teenage-girl in her squealed from the thought. She’d never gotten the opportunity to let her mind waver to things of love or fantasies that were consumed of tragedy. Though.. Hermione knew most of these books had been filled with a pain that’d make her heart wrench and threatened to break. A love so damned and a black hole that swamped the edges of happy endings. It was all so morbid in a small thought in the back of her head — but.. who said you couldn’t read about tragic endings? 

Now.. She was single and in her 20’s. 

She needed something to occupy her mind and fill that void of wanted lust or shriveled love — both things she hadn’t experienced in a very long time. If at all. 

Hermione walked leisurely to the far end of the section, her fingers glossing over a hard-back cover. A green one. It was mossy green. It was leather and just before she could make out the title of the book — someone on the other side of the worn-in shelf had plucked it off before Hermione had the chance to. 

All she could see was a large pale hand, long fingers that wrapped around the book's spine, and a ring that was engraved with the letter ‘M’.

Her breath hitched. 

A musky and citrus smell surrounded the area. 

Surrounded her. 

It somehow sent a familiar feeling through her body and a tinge of something she once knew. Something — _someone_ absolutely vile and cruel. The scent was somehow comforting.. and it’s also the last thing she wanted to encounter, especially in a place where it provided her with the needed safety she always wanted. 

She didn’t know if the person behind the shelf was a snake that planned to bite. 

Like he used to. 

Her body went completely limp, unsure if she should make a run for it or face who it was. Her stomach filled with lead, almost like it was crowding her in heavy weights, pushing her feet down so she couldn’t move. 

And then part of her wanted to move. She wanted to see _him._

It was always that curious and unreliable part of her brain that won over everything else that happened to be more rational decisions. Ones she looked over — somehow even more in moments like this. 

Her feet allowed her to finally move. Closing her eyes tightly and inhaling deeply before she walked into the small corridor.

And there, her eyes filled with the brightest shade of white-blonde hair and a figure that could possibly tower over her. 

Then — brown eyes met silver. They practically intertwined, divulging into something that made both their hearts stop. 

Malfoy. 

He laced the green-leathered book in his hands, his hands that were _large_ and if you only flashed your eyes at them for a moment there’s no way you could’ve made out a book in that man's hands. 

“Granger?” The low drawl of his voice erupted in her ears and she immediately looked up. 

Her chest started to heave. She couldn’t exactly explain the feelings that shoot through her body; like something that could’ve burned her. Something that she hadn’t felt in years. 

Bile settled in her lower stomach. She felt it crawl down from her throat like lava. 

This man in-front of her was of cruel nature.. and she never expected him to be in Muggle London. And in small libraries of _all_ places. 

Words that felt lost and trapped, raced around in the corners of her mind.

He looked her up and down, his eyes taking in every inch of her body. She didn’t miss the smirk that played on the creases of his _full_ lips. He looked different. His hair styled differently, not exactly messy, but it’d probably only ever look good on him; she wagered. He wore a grey suit, not too much — but just enough to make you look twice. Hermione couldn’t deny her old school rival was quite the handsome wizard. 

And then he spoke again, “Well, I suppose it is you. How are you, Granger?” He placed the book tighter in his hand. 

She finally was able to read the bloody title. 

_Romeo and Juliet._

How dare he ask her how she is? After taking _her_ book and now acting like everything must be so innocent and civil between them– 

Asking such a question that had even a bit of chivalrousness in his attitude and tone. 

Malfoy couldn’t possibly adapt to such chivalry. 

She sucked down all the tell-tale signs of her eagerness to shoot him a dirty look and leave. 

Something was pulling her in like a magnet. 

Maybe it was just her hands that were itching to get that book, or something else. 

“Malfoy,” 

“Granger.” 

“I would first like to know _why_ you are here? I never expected someone of your ego to stoop down to such places in _Muggle_ London.” Her hand immediately shot to her hip, her face was obviously as sour as she could manage. 

All he did was chuckle at her, his laugh low and almost mocking. 

“I rather like Muggle London, you also might want to keep your voice down, Granger.” He whispered her last name, smirking at her. 

His eyes followed every movement she made. 

It was taunting and somewhat thrilling. Her mind couldn’t place what he was truly here for. 

“My volume is perfectly reasonable and.. why exactly would you be coming to a library here? All these authors are Muggles.” Her head tilted, her eyes still fixated on the book in his hand.

One she found intriguing. 

He stepped closer, almost too close for her liking. 

Her breath hitched once again, her blood simmering and she instantly felt the way her cheeks lit up red. 

The tone of his voice low, once again as he said, “I’ve come to realise I find _these_ ,” He gestured to the book in his hands, “works of literature quite amusing. Always wondered what went on in their heads. Now, Granger, me wanting to venture in other books outside the Wizarding World isn’t so bad, I suppose it’s quite customary.” His perfect eyebrow arched into a diverting expression that was plastered on his angular face. 

Malfoy processed to close the distance between the pair. 

His grip on the book loosened.

“And you witches seem to love these romance novels— This one though.. quite unrealistic and tragic ending. Of course the work is somewhat appealing and I cannot deny it is a fine piece of literature.” Hermione’s back met the back of a small shelf, crowded by other books. 

He stood almost chest to chest with her. 

The book slid between his two fingers. She could feel his hot breath against her inflamed skin. Her breath shaking every time she tried to gulp down enough air to speak. 

_What was troubling her so badly._

She couldn’t understand why his presence had suddenly made her weak in the knees. Why her thoughts had suddenly been clouded with uncertainty. 

She pointed her nose up. 

“No one ever said it was a crime to read such tragedies. I find it quite moving that Romeo couldn’t live without Juliet.” She painted a smirk on her face— even if the red had still festered deep into her skin, she let the expression that almost resembled him, show wide in his face. 

Her eyes explored the slopes of his jaw and nose. 

He looked so different.. 

It wasn’t the same boyish face she came face to face with for years. This was a man with stories carved into each line of his place face, ones that made her feel for him. Her mind had betrayed her. Her body had too. 

It was like having an encounter with a stranger that you somehow knew everything and nothing about. Something was always changing in their eyes. Something that tells you not to be too hard on them, not to misunderstand. To listen and not back away. 

Or to completely ignore them and never have that one person make a singular impact on your life. 

Hermione chose the first option. 

And that scared her all the more after that day. 

Because he handed her the book, nodding at her, his eyes not leaving hers as he said, “Let’s hope you’re never Juliet.” 

And then he was gone. 

**_June 25th 2001_ **

He came back every morning. 

And she was always there. 

They had discussions of Romeo and Juliet. 

And then they ventured further into the other literatures of Romance. 

“Shakespeare had of been a wizard,” 

“Just because a Muggle shows any sign of being worthy in your book, doesn’t mean they’re a wizard, Malfoy.” She laughed at him, her eyes still flashing in playful ire. 

She didn’t quite understand why he was always around. 

Questioning his motives. 

She never asked him, she doesn’t believe he’ll tell her the truth. 

And now, they were sitting on a small bench in the back of the library, in front of a big widow that had overgrown flowers wrapped around the glass. Casually talking. 

“Believe what you want, Granger. No one _that_ good creates stories such as he and not be magically inclined. No Muggle sees things like that.” He sipped on his tea, staring up at her through his lashes. The never-ending smirk of a Malfoy still present on his face. 

“Have you seen their movies? I think we all have ideas of our own that seem crazy to others and then absolutely beautiful to the other half. That’s how life works. Magic or not.” She felt quite proud of herself, knowing whatever small argument they had just had, she’d won it fair and square. 

He leaned back in the green leather chair and folded his arms over his chest. 

“I suppose so.” 

“Absolutely you should,” She bit her lip. 

“You never answered my question by the way,” 

“What question?” 

“I asked how you were, Granger. Where are your Gryffindor manners?” He licked his lip, making a small chuckle under his breath. 

She wasn’t sure how she should answer that question. No one ever finds the time to ask her, so she never has an answer ready. She never wanted it to be a loaded one — one that certainly had held too much. Or one that held too little of how she really was. 

She was lonely. 

And she missed her parents. 

She missed her friends but — she needed something more. Something that made her count more than three reasons to stay alive on her hands. 

She finally answered. 

“I’m not sure why you’re interested, but I’ve been fine. I read my books and I come home to my cat every afternoon.” She suddenly stiffened. Her body nearly trembled. She just hoped he wouldn’t diverge anymore into the subject of her well-being. 

“I’d like to get to know you, Granger.” And then he smiled at her. 

And it looked genuine. 

Something that made her mixed feelings about the man in-front of her, seem to have confused her more. 

Hermione couldn’t lie to herself — she was intrigued. 

And him being more than _gorgeous_ added to that interest. 

**_July 17th 2001_ **

She’d been walking to the library, it was a Sunday and she was looking forward to her tea with Miss Eleanor

Before her hand could stretch out and open the door, the same smell of musk and citrus filled her body. 

Stopping her completely. 

She turned around and Malfoy was once again looking her up and down. 

This time he was wearing a grey sweater and pleated black trousers. His hair was messy and the sight.. well it made her thighs clench. 

_Damn you, Malfoy._

“Malfoy?” She inquired. 

“Don’t go in there just yet, why don’t you have lunch with me? I have some things I’d like to tell you.” 

* * *

It was the truth of course. 

He had plenty to say to her. A woman who he didn’t exactly deserve to be around. Someone he owed everything to. His interest in her nearly peaked after she suddenly left the Ministry. Somehow, after the war, Draco had to find peace within himself. He wanted to start fresh. His mind had built bridges against what was truly right and then he’d get tempted to destroy them. So he did. He had to. 

At some point in his life — Draco Malfoy had started to fancy Hermione Granger and he knew he owed an explanation to the witch, if he ever planned to win her over. 

He wouldn’t blame her if she slapped him across the face that day he found her in the library.

He needed to see her. Needed know what it was like to be around her again. 

And she was beautiful. 

And she was everything Draco Malfoy didn’t deserve. 

Now.. before time ran out and let himself drink the fire whiskey that made him believe hell was real — he just needed to tell her. He needed to apologize. 

Maybe her forgiveness is what would make him believe _heaven_ is real. 

Because she blinded him with her white-wings of innocence and the way she looked perfect doing anything. The way she was so passionate about Romeo and Juliet. 

And he meant it when he told her he hoped she’d never end up like Juliet. 

_Dead._

* * *

She couldn’t stop the words that came out of her mouth. 

Of course she said yes. 

Her body betrayed her yet again. 

And she couldn’t say no to Draco Malfoy. 

Hermione couldn’t lie.. she was slowly becoming interested in him. The more he talked, the more part of his world made sense. Of course _his_ world. The way his mind worked. It made her think and it intrigued her all the more. 

They sat at a small round table, a white sheet covered the top, and they settled on sandwiches and water. 

“I can’t believe I’m having lunch with Hermione Granger.” He smirked. 

“And I can’t believe I let the word _yes_ pour out of my mouth, for Draco Malfoy.” And she meant that. She did. 

Because now she couldn’t stop questioning herself. 

Why she kept looking at him. 

Why it felt like her heart could stop every time they met eyes. 

“What did you ask me here? You said you wanted to talk. We do that pretty often these days.” And she immediately saw the seriousness rush back to his face. He inhaled loudly. Breathing in air that probably tasted bitter in his mouth. 

“Yes but.. there’s more I’ve been meaning to talk about. That you need to hear. I can’t keep quiet about it and I find it completely inappropriate of me to keep showing up and not explaining why I even do.” He told her, his index finger circling the glass around his cup. 

Hermione felt lost.. but at some point when she looked at him and _truly_ looked at him. She let herself see Draco Malfoy for the first time. 

He wanted her to listen and so she did. 

“I don’t expect you to accept my apology, Granger. I don’t. I wouldn’t expect any less from you. I just needed to say it and I needed you to hear it. I can’t deny that I’ve taken an interest in you, even before you left the Ministry on a whim. I suppose it started even before the war. The way your mind works.. everything about you draws me in. I was a git — and yes I was absolutely vile to you. I cannot exactly apologize for my younger self, I was naive enough to believe what my father spewed out every change he got. But, I can apologize for anything I did to truly damage the way you think about yourself, if somehow my words and actions followed into your adult life. Before my mother died, it was clear to me I didn’t want to waste my own. So.. I make trips outside of the Wizarding World and find myself in a bookshop, searching for a witch that should’ve pushed me away the minute she saw me. But I couldn’t help it. I looked at you and everything stopped. Everything ran through my head. You needed to hear that I am sorry. I am sorry for any pain I’ve ever caused you and will inevitably cause you in the future, if you decide to keep meeting with me. I look at you and somehow it’s my future I see in your eyes. That is why I asked you to have lunch with me.”

He didn’t meet her eyes again. She could tell he wanted her to simmer in his words. Words that must’ve actually meant something and Hermione had to take the time to engrave them somewhere, where she’d believed them. Where she’d piece a puzzle together and eventually forgive him. 

She needed it too.

If it wasn’t for her — it for him. 

Her heart felt like a million other things. Pieces of that puzzle scattering and her heart strings begging to mend them back together. 

Air that couldn’t possibly reach her lungs. 

But she forced her throat to click open and suck down everything that once tasted like poison on his tongue. 

“If it’s forgiveness you need, Malfoy.. I would’ve given that to you years ago, it’s taking some getting used to— you know. This. Us. You. But, I’m trying, because I need it. I think you need it too.” She said it as tentatively as she could, trying to tie the pieces of that puzzle together. Broken pieces. She needed them to mold together again. 

For him. 

And for her. 

Hermione knew that now. 

It was important for him. 

It was just as important for her. 

Life had thrown her many obstacles and now she’s sitting in a Muggle cafe — having lunch with Draco Malfoy and he just testified for the only forgiveness that he ever sought out. And she forgave him. Somewhere deep inside her chest — deep inside the sullen bones of her body, she knew she forgave him years ago. 

She’d let her depression take over and that’s when she understood him. That’s when she fought against the current of everything that was pulling her under, that was when she knew she needed someone like Malfoy in her life.

He needed her too. 

He didn’t say anything else, but she didn’t miss the way his eyes glittered with hope and serene that came with truly knowing Hermione Granger. 

Suddenly she felt a warmth overflow her senses. Her skin was hot and she knew her cheeks were coloured with all the shades of red that there could possibly be. 

And then his hand touched hers. 

Her hand that had been resting at the middle of the small dinner table. He rubbed circles inside her palm and the blush of his cheeks matched hers. 

Her breath hitched and she never thought she’d see the day when Draco Malfoy would _blush._

It made her feel giddy. 

Her heart was pounding. 

She felt like a teenager again and the way he was looking at her now, his tongue moving along his sculpted cheeks and his jaw clenching. 

And she certainly didn’t miss the smirk playing on his _full_ lips. 

And of course her thighs clenched and now that man had officially made her knickers pool, inundated her. 

“You’re certainly the golden girl, Granger.” And then he smiled at her. 

Really smiled.

And her muscles tried to fight against the moving pain that forces them to flash a smile in his direction, she doesn’t let them win. Her heart feels bigger, brighter and she believes it’s the first time she’s felt her feet leave the depths of the hell she was getting comfortable in. 

And now all she wants to do is thank him. 

In _many_ ways. 


End file.
